My Sunday best to bag up

I wear such an unhappiness
every day – sunlight is never
enough to wither auld algae
[nor heal rotten roof timbers
or fix my rattling memories]
& you were so astonished at
that admission/ No listening
to strangers – only hollowed
lovers in your low scheme of
loves left hanging on – never
those who only dealt in kind
deeds without touches/ You
rarely listened with kindness
as your spur/ Singing didn’t
come to you [or your choirs]
as I left you my wedding suit
& my Sunday best to bag up